


A Mild Cardiac Event Over Buckles

by todisturbtheuniverse



Series: Tongues Will Wag [11]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todisturbtheuniverse/pseuds/todisturbtheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompted by flutiebear on Tumblr: f!Hawke/Isabela, a mild cardiac event over buckles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mild Cardiac Event Over Buckles

"Andraste," Hawke wheezed, down on her knees in the dirt, with her heartbeat jamming up beneath her ribs. "It’s finally happened."

"What?" Isabela demanded, fingers urgently plucking at Hawke’s shoulders. "What’s finally happened? Hawke, for fuck’s sake, get up, it was just some unruly dwarves—"

"This blighted armor," Hawke gasped out. If hearts could dance a jig, hers was having a fair shot at it. She scrabbled uselessly at the ties that dotted her side; she’d begun to lose feeling in her fingers. "Get it off me,  _get it off me_ —”

With nimble fingers—for she’d done it dozens of times before, in decidedly more pleasant situations—Isabela undid the buckles, applying pressure in all the right places. Little by little, the horrific weight that had squeezed tight around Hawke’s chest let up. Gasping for air, she flopped onto her back, nearly choking on dust while Isabela went on snapping the buckles apart.

In the dirt of Lowtown, with foundry smoke sailing over her head, Hawke breathed deep, coughed, and inhaled again, chest heaving beneath her thin undershirt. Isabela knelt beside her, fingers wrapped around the inside of her wrist to seek out a pulse.

"I told Aveline," Hawke said, her voice little more than a breathy exhale, "I told her, when she commissioned the damn armor, that it had too many buckles.  _Aveline_ , I said,  _are you trying to get me killed_? And she said,  _No, Hawke_ , in that patronizing way of hers, and she flapped her hands at me, and told me I was being  _dramatic_ , and that it suited the aesthetic, and besides, I always complained that my armor wasn’t tight enough, and the buckles would help. Never a thought to unruly dwarves sneaking up behind me and pulling the blighted things tight enough to stop me breathing!”

Isabela looked as though she was trying very hard not to laugh. “Dearest,” she said, “even Aveline couldn’t have foretold you’d meet your end with buckles. It’s far too pathetic.”

"I just nearly  _died_ , and here you are, making  _jokes_ —”

"Mmm, yes," Isabela agreed, poking her in the stomach. Hawke yelped. "It’s awful of me." Without looking up, she flung her last knife off to the right. There was a hiss of surprise and the sound of a body hitting the ground.

"I love it when you do that," Hawke said, beginning to feel a little faint.

"And I love when you make a fool of yourself," Isabela said, a wicked smile on her lips. "Come on, then."

"It’s not my fault," Hawke protested as Isabela dragged her to her feet. "It’s Aveline’s.  _Aveline’s_.”

"I cannot  _wait_  to tell Varric,” Isabela mused, not listening to a word. “It will be a story to shame all others. The Great Hawke, explorer of the Deep Roads, slayer of the Arishok, felled by buckles.”

Hawke let out a low groan. Isabela pressed a kiss to her cheek and drew Hawke’s arm around her shoulders. With a quick flick of her ankle, the discarded armor popped up in the air for Isabela to catch in her free hand.

"Better keep this," she teased. "I’m sure we can find a better use for those buckles."

Hawke snorted, turning her face into Isabela’s shoulder, and Isabela tugged her forward, leading her home.


End file.
